Travels in Siberia

by Ian Frazier

In his astonishing new work, Ian Frazier, one of our greatest and most entertaining storytellers, trains his perceptive, generous eye on Siberia, the storied expanse of Asiatic Russia whose grim renown is but one explanation among hundreds for the region's fascinating, enduring appeal. In Travels in Siberia, Frazier reveals Siberia's role in history--its science, economics, and politics--with great passion and enthusiasm, ensuring that we'll never think about it in the same way again.

With great empathy and epic sweep, Frazier tells the stories of Siberia's most famous exiles, from the well-known--Dostoyevsky, Lenin (twice), Stalin (numerous times)--to the lesser known (like Natalie Lopukhin, banished by the empress for copying her dresses) to those who experienced unimaginable suffering in Siberian camps under the Soviet regime, forever immortalized by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn in The Gulag Archipelago.

Travels in Siberia is also a unique chronicle of Russia since the end of the Soviet Union, a personal account of adventures among Russian friends and acquaintances, and, above all, a unique, captivating, totally Frazierian take on what he calls the "amazingness" of Russia--a country that, for all its tragic history, somehow still manages to be funny. Travels in Siberia will undoubtedly take its place as one of the twenty-first century's indispensable contributions to the travel-writing genre.

Genres: Travel, Nonfiction, Russia, History, Memoir, Adventure, Asia

529 pages, Hardcover

First published October 12, 2010

About the author

Ian Frazier (b.1951) is an American writer and humorist. He is the author of Travels in Siberia, Great Plains, On the Rez, Lamentations of the Father and Coyote V. Acme, among other works, all published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux. He graduated from Harvard University. A frequent contributor to The New Yorker, he lives in Montclair, New Jersey.

http://us.macmillan.com/author/ianfra...

Reviews

[Darwin8u · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Sometimes travel is merely an opportunity taken when you can.”
― Ian Frazier, Travels in Siberia



A gifted narrator, Ian Frazier for me seems to occupy a genetic/literary lovechild space somewhere between Bill Bryson (mother: Midwestern appetites) and John McPhee (father: New Yorker affectations). Like Frazier, I too have been drawn to Russia. I remember traveling to Moscow and St. Petersburg shortly after the wall came down (and before the 1993 Russian constitutional crisis). There is something magnetic (both attractive and repellant) about the people, the culture, the geography, that sucks a certain type/flux of person in.

Both a travelogue and an historical review of Siberia, 'Travels in Siberia' never once disappoints. Frazier hits all the major markers about Siberia: its size, the cold, its history, language, food, the cold, gulags, the cold, transportation, hot women, resources, food, language, hot women, the cold, politics, people, the cold, and hot women. Seriously, the women in Siberia are apparently really hot.

Other things I enjoyed while reading this: 1) All the books referenced by Ian Frazier (check out the selected bibliography. Some books just have a sexy bibliography). There is now a whole slew of Siberian exploration books, Russian novels, and Decembrist history that I want/need to read. 2) Frazier's simple, spare drawings were perfect for this book. 3) The dynamic arc created by this book being written over the last 15+ years. It reminded me of certain Impressionist paintings done at different times of the same exact scene. The colors, light, and shapes shift because of shifts in time and season. The same is true of Frazier's book. You exit the book with a significantly different view of Siberia from which you entered it. That large and desolate country changed in 15 years, certainly, but more than that Frazier changed by both his experiences in and his experiences THRU Siberia.

Now that Pussy Riot* have been released from their own stint in a Siberian penal colony, the book seems like a perfectly timed pre-read for the Olympics. While Sochi is more Caucasus/Black Sea than Siberia, it is still Russia in the way it seems focused on the repressed, totalitarian cold. Gays are to stay away. Stray dogs are being round up and shot. Pussy Riot is freed to garner some PR goodwill. It all seems like some 21st century match-up of Siberian protesters (gays and Pussy Riot) vs the modern Russian Tsar (Putin, obviously). I'm waiting for a whole new set of protesters gearing up for their slow train ride to a Penal Colony. Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose.

* I should disclose that I am really attracted to Pussy Riot. Not that ooh they are sooo pretty attracted, but in that singular way you (Yes you faithful reader) are attracted to people with a sharp purpose, excess energy, the ability to capture a moment perfectly, and a willingness to go badasshard against institutions as big and strong as the Russian Orthodox Church and the Putin Totalitarian State. Pussy Riot did everything the Decembrists did, but they did it in heels and backwards. Plus they have the name Pussy Riot, which is kinda silly, but still also makes my tongue swell, and eyes dart back and forth (looking for Mom) when I say it out loud.

[RandomAnthony · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ian Frazier, the author of Travels in Siberia, wants people to know that Siberia is filled with mosquitoes and isn't always cold. Russian women are also, in his estimation, among the world's most beautiful. And apparently there are huge trash heaps spread along many of the roads. But this book is more than the sum of its travelogue plus history plus reflective essay parts. Frazier researched Travels in Siberia for a couple decades. He integrates the past, the landscape, and daily observations with admirable literary grace. He's not afraid to admit he's freaking out when driving over frozen lakes or worried that he didn't explain pain reliever directions well enough to an older Russian who may have passed out in the front seat. His guides piss him off when they refuse to visit abandoned prisons. I would have hated these trips. He eats cottage cheese and sour cream sold by random women on the side of the road and sleeps in a tent while his guides wander away from the campsite to pick up women. Fuck that. But Frazier also sees the good, the alien, and the familiar in those same guides and comes to call them friends. Frazier masters Russian enough to travel on his own and marvels when he connects stories of the Decemberists (not the shitty band, the real Decemberists) with the concrete cities on his path. The Russian spirit fascinates him; these Siberians who live in a middle of nowhere that sometimes looks like rural Ohio in February but way, way colder are complex and wonderfully portrayed. And his spooky walk through an abandoned gulag mixes masterfully with his narrative of that dark stretch of Russia's story. Frazier knows when to modulate scope. He'll describe his notes for a three hundred mile car ride in two paragraphs then spend four pages on a city's museum and the curator's fascination with the local geological history. Not only can Frazier write, he understands that when he's writing about Siberia he's writing as much about the mythical otherness associated with the word as the people he meets and the places he visits. When he describes the chaos of the Trans-Siberian railway he adds small details about the dust and garbage while outlining the broad, swirling pressure to make sure his guide bribes the right guy so their car can get on the right train. Siberia is funny and horrible and unrecognizable and filled with hot women. And Frazier does a brilliant job addressing an expanse that compromises one-twelfth of the earth's surface. Travels in Siberia left me appreciating a professional writer, a man who knows and respects his craft. I didn't expect to love a 460 page book on what I perceived as a really big Midwestern cornfield, just in Russia, but I did. Erik Simon, upon whose recommendation I read Travels in Siberia, called the book "riveting". Erik's dead-on accurate. Highly recommended for anyone who wants to read sublime travel literature.

[Jamie Smith · Rating 4 out of 5]

Winston Churchill famously called Russia a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma. It remains so today, a country covering one-eight of the earth’s landmass, its culture more Asiatic than European, governed as ruthlessly, violently, and capriciously as it was under the Tsars. For some people, including Ian Frazier, it exerts an irresistible fascination, and in the early 2000s he found himself returning again and again. This book recounts several visits to Siberia, but it is primarily a travelogue of his road trip from St. Petersburg to the Pacific ocean, a trek of more than 6500 miles which took just over five weeks.

He bought a used van which seemed to break down every few days, and hired two Russians as guides and drivers, one of whom turned out to be a sort of mechanical wizard who could repair the vehicle from discarded metal scraps found along the highway. There was always plenty to choose from because the Russians treat their highways as garbage dumps; trash litters the entire route, rising into great mounds in places where people pull off to camp overnight. However, at one point Frazier makes the observation, “I guessed that garbage in a landscape may not seem like such a big problem if it’s buried under snow for eight months of the year.” (p. 369)

The ordinary Russians he met were friendly and generous, and the scientists all seemed to speak fluent English, yet a sense of caution runs through the narrative, a recognition that trouble could crop up any moment; it might be from the weather, or the roads, or from outlaws, including outlaws of the government kind. The Russians he discussed his trip with, both those in the United States and those in Russia, thought it was a crazy idea and were clear that it might end very badly. At about the halfway point his guides felt it advisable to disguise the van as an emergency services vehicle. There was never any trouble, but the reader is left wondering what they were trying to avoid.

His two guides seemed to exemplify the Russian character. Sometimes helpful and friendly, sometimes hostile and uncommunicative. At times they simply refused to go where he told them, without explanation, and Frazier was left wondering who was in charge. The relationship with the two of them grew more strained as time went on, but part of that would happen to anyone cooped up in a car for weeks on end.

The road itself varied from modern multi-lane pavement to barely passable dirt or gravel, sometimes with giant potholes. Most evenings the three of them camped out, and since the trip was taken during the summer, they had to deal with clouds – literally, clouds – of aggressive blood sucking mosquitoes, along with biting flies and other nasty little critters. Even with mosquito nets and other protective gear they were tormented constantly, the only relief coming when the wind was blowing hard enough to clear the air.

Some of the towns and cities they passed through were beautiful, but many were dirty, polluted, and declining fast as young people left to chase better opportunities in western Russia. In several places Frazier commented on how beautiful the women are, and wondered why that should be. He then quotes another author who makes the point that perhaps it is because beauty is their best selling point, in the sense that emphasizing and enhancing it might allow them to marry someone who could take them out of the Siberian back-of-beyond, to go live in real cities with actual things to do.

Frazier returned twice more after finishing his road trip. If Siberia is famous for anything, it is its fierce winter cold. He set out again in January, taking with him one of his guides from the previous trip. This time they took planes, trains, and private vehicles, traveling sometimes on frozen lakes and rivers in temperatures that plunged to -40°F. Also, this time Frazier had another purpose as well, to get a look at the remains of the Soviet gulag. It is in this part of the book that the writing really comes alive; the first part was interesting, but it was basically just a road trip account of where he went, what he saw, and who he met. He had clearly done his homework about the gulag, and his writing in this section is filled with sober, elegiac comments, such as

People slaved in the gulag camps for five, ten, or fifteen years because they had used fake ration cards, or worked for the American Relief Organization during the famine that followed the First World War, or stolen a spool of thread, or perpetrated a ‘facial crime’ (such as smiling during a serious party lecture), or inquired about the cost of a boat ticket to Vera Cruz, or studied Esperanto, or possessed a piece of Japanese candy (proof of spying for the Japanese), or danced the decadent Western dance called the fox-trot. (p. 218)

To call it nightmarish is a vast understatement; words fail at the enormity of the suffering and waste of life. To the Soviet leadership human beings were currency, to be spent in service to the state. “A main goal of the Soviet labor-camp system was to take those citizens the Soviet Union did not need, for political or social or unfathomable reasons, and convert their lives to gold and timber that could be traded abroad.” (p. 424)

Along the road he traveled on this trip there were the remains of former labor camps, and he stopped at one. The cold had preserved much of it, including the barbed wire with inch-long spikes, and he stood at a window and peered into one of the barracks, its tiers of bunks still rising to the ceiling. He wondered what kind of camp it had been, whether for political prisoners, ordinary criminals, women, or even children. His somber description of the scene gives a sense of the magnitude of the horrors that occurred there, and then the reader remembers that the road he was traveling had other camps along it, each its own little piece of hell.

Some of the statistics Frazier turned up were staggering.

At the peak of operation in the thirties and forties, the mines of Kolyma produced perhaps 50 percent of all the gold being mined at that time in the world. By comparing the number of deaths in the Kolyma mines with the corresponding output of gold, historians have estimated that each ton of Kolyma gold cost between seven hundred and a thousand lives, or about one life for every two pounds of gold. (p. 404)

After reading Travels in Siberia I looked for other recent information about the gulags, and found a book by Masha Gessen called Never Remember: Searching for Stalin's Gulags in Putin's Russia, which is both a narrative description of the camps and a pictorial look at what remains of them.

Ian Frazier has written several other good travel books, including Great Plains and On the Rez. This one is about 500 pages, and that is a good thing. Books are getting shorter and shorter, and if he were to publish it today he would probably have to trim a couple hundred pages, leaving out much of the book’s substance. Even Roger Crowley, the great medieval historian, said recently that when he proposed his most recent book the only restriction his publisher placed on him was that he had to keep it under 300 pages, making me wonder how much insightful commentary and illuminating detail had to be left out.

[Chrissie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wow, even the last chapter was superb - Siberian climate change and what this may portend for the future.

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I am almost, almost done with Travels in Siberia which will be given four stars. From start to finish it has been very interesting, and the travel experiences are entertaining. Maybe it is better to read this rather than listen to it, as I am doing. You have to stop all the time and rewind. It is important to have access to maps. I assume the paper book has them. The author reads the book himself, in this audio version. He speaks slowly, but this I appreciate; there are too many facts for a quick reading.

The author made five trips to write this book. He learned the language so he could talk to Russians on his trips. He has clearly a thorough knowledge of all that is Siberian and Russian. I am now in the last chapter, devoted to his return in 2009 to gain further knowledge of the oil and gas industry. His first trip was, if I remember correctly, in 1997. So ten years has passed and changes are noted.

I love his discussion of Russian ballet, the beauty of Russian women, how he throws in quotes from Russian authors and enriches the travel experiences with facts of history. What shines through is his enthusiasm and fascination for all things Siberian. I particularly like that he is a normal guy; his reaction to events are those that we the readers would most probably share.

This isn't a bad way to travel. It is nice, Frazier can deal with the bugs and cold and heat and "toilets" and broken cars, leaving me to sit back in a comfortable chair and listen.

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I have just listened to chapter 8 of part two: Clearly there will be sections of travel stories and others focused on history. I just listened to a fabulous account concerning the role Mongols played in Russian history. Fascinating. In such sections I must stop and rewind and take notes and look in Wikipedia. You don't have to, of course, but it's fun.

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SOME THOUGHTS AS I LISTEN TO THE AUDIO BOOK:This is easy to follow on an audio book. The beginning is chock-full with facts, which makes me want to rewind the narration so I can better absorb each bit. That stops and you get more about his day-to-day travel, who he meets, what the housing was like and the food and the landscape. Small annoyances and unexpected delights. Some reviewers say nothing happens.....but that is not true at all. It all depends on how you define happenings. I enjoy reading about a walk on a beach, under gray clouds, hearing rumbling surf. I remember by own walks. But he is so lucky to see huge whale skulls mounted along the beach. Not one, but many! You see them with him. For me, that is not nothing; it is definitely something.

And the people he meets are philosophically observed. A few are complaining because they have paid what they think is an exorbitant amount for the outing. The tents are inferior and the food scant. What is really bothering them is: Why the hell did they have had to pay so much for this?! They complain to Frazier too, a fellow tourist. There is nobody else to complain to. The guide has disappeared; it is not his problem! When Frazier points out that perhaps the money was spent on bribes, bibes that were necessary for the trip to take place, then they calm down. Finally they are quiet. Interesting to ponder, don't you think? People just don't want to be cheated, and what does this say about Russian society and life?

And then there is humor - much wisecracking and complaints too, but this is all down to earth and probably exactly how any of us would react to the given circumstances. Humor: they see some whales and all in the group scream w-h-a-l-e-s!!! In at least two languages. The choice of words makes you feel like you could be there and take part in this experience. Then Frazier thinks.....the whales have submerged and isn't it true you can calculate when they will come up again by when they will need more air? So of course he asks, "How long are they going to be down there?" The answer: "Until they come up." Come on: aren't you smiling?

This is fun and you get a feel for Siberia. What you might see and how it would feel to walk on that beach and maybe you learn a little bit about the character of Siberians and how it might be to live there.

I was in Russia, not Siberia, in 1972. Everything was broken. In Moscow, in the best hotel, there were 10 fancy elevators, but only two worked. Upstairs the walls between the bedroom and the entrance hall didn't fit each other. Windows could not be shut due to faulty window-casings. Behind the hotel were heaps of extra bathtubs. Everywhere, things were broken. Things didn't work. In restaurants you recieved menus but only one dish was available. Frazier runs into this too, and I laugh and remember my own experiences. He was there two decades later and little had changed.

[Lisa · Rating 4 out of 5]

When I returned from spending several months in Russia as a graduate student, a friend asked what it was like and whether I enjoyed it. My reply was something like, “It was great, I loved it, never go there.”
Russia is a place guaranteed to frustrate anyone who has to have things go according to plan, expects problems to be solved quickly and transparently, and likes things orderly and sanitized in that uniquely American way (my friend was all three). Plans fall apart, problems are addressed with a shrug (and perhaps a bribe), and, to put it politely, standards of cleanliness differ overseas.
But Russia is also a place of striking beauty — natural as well as artistic — warm hospitality and an incredibly complex cultural and historical tradition.
This contrast is probably why, in “Travels in Siberia,” Ian Frazier calls Russia “the greatest horrible country in the world.”
Frazier has what he calls “Russia-Love,” and those who have it know exactly what this is -- not being able to get enough of this great and horrible country. Frazier’s fascination is not with the cultural and historical centers of western Russia, but the vast, wild frontiers of Siberia.
And Siberia is about as vast as it gets: Flying to Novosibirsk from Moscow, I looked out the plane window and saw nothing but green. No roads, no towns, no buildings, nothing but miles of trees. Had I gone in the winter, it would have been uninterrupted miles of white. Frazier made several trips to Siberia, including in the winter, and the view from the ground is endless steppe, thick forests and the blanketing dark of night.
This very readable book details his travels to and across Siberia — one trip was by van from St. Petersburg to Vladivostok — and his observations of the people and the landscapes, warts and all. He encounters swarms of biting insects, village poets, unexpected churches, sprawling rivers, brutal cold, and the largest bust of Lenin in the world.
He exhaustively read travel books by foreigners visiting Siberia — including a 19th-century account by George Kennan, the namesake of Cold War historian George F. Kennan — and keeps an eye out for things they saw or places they visited.
But Frazier also delves deeply into the history of Siberia, from the time of Genghis Khan through the tsars, the Soviets and the modern era; the fur trade, the construction of the railroads and the tapping of mineral wealth. And, of course, the worldwide image of Siberia as a place of banishment and imprisonment. “Using a place as punishment may or may not be fair to the people who are punished there,” he writes, “but it always demeans and does a disservice to the place.”
In Siberia, Frazier was quite interested in seeing some gulags, even a marker Kennan mentioned that lay along the route taken by a century’s worth of exiles. His guide, however, was not at all interested in showing him any prisons, dismissing his requests without explanation. When they finally happened across an old one, the guide was nervous about getting out and looking around, but Frazier insisted. “What struck me then and still strikes me now was the place’s overwhelming aura of absence. The deserted prison camp just sat there -- unexcused, un-torn-down, unexplained. ... ‘No comment,’ the site seemed to say.”
Frazier’s subject is huge and unwieldy, but his book grabs hold of it and shows us many facets. The history offered is not comprehensive — nor does it claim to be — but touches on crucial figures and events as well as some that are lesser-known but no less interesting. The travelogues are fascinating and he’s included a few of his own sketches of places he visited.
And his writing is thoughtful, even meditative at points, but never bogs down; instead he compels the reader forward, making us want to know what else happened. His descriptions give us a sense of this land beyond the thousands-of-miles, biggest-coldest-longest geographical facts, Frazier brings even the bleakest places to life — not that most of us would want to go there, but that’s the point: He went, we can enjoy reading about it.

[Anna · Rating 3 out of 5]

Siberia is endless, and so does this book seem at times… It is slow and frustrating, just like a trip in the company of Sergey and Volodia in a constantly breaking van, through the vastness of Siberia.
Ian Frazier has apparently fallen victim to a Russian baccila. He fell in love with Russia and all things Russian which could explain the idea of wanting to travel through Siberia. Joining him on the the experience means experiencing the Russian smells, insects, warm sweaty summers and cold winters, visiting the most extreme western end of Siberia, investing the remains of one of Stalin’s work camps, experiencing the hospitality of locals, and let us not forget, the reappearing frustration of traveling in the chosen mean of transportation - a second-hand van, that constantly breaks.
It took years and many trips to complete this book, and to gather all the things and experiences that a visitor to Siberia might want to know. I have deep respect for the author's ambition but I can not help thinking that the result is overdone, good, but far too detailed. Some of the stories and would have been enough - as it is, the travelogue in its entirety, is probably most interesting to Ian Frazier himself …

[Trish · Rating 5 out of 5]

Travels in Siberia is BIG, and I thought the expanse of white cover particularly appropriate, too--just like the place. It seems peculiar to describe a trip (several trips, actually) across Siberia and say honestly at the end: "nothing much happened," but that about sums it up. For a traveller, nothing (unexpected) happening can be a very good thing, and readers can take heart that we had such a pleasant and wryly funny guide to the biggest country on earth ("too big, really"). I, for one, was very glad Frazier did this trip for me. While I am curious about Siberia post-USSR, I really cannot see myself hiring a van and a translator...Later in the book we read about Dervla Murphy who shows up in Severobaikalsk on a BICYCLE. I made a note to look up that trip report.

By we time we get to the last chapter (Chapter 30) in Travels , we have been steeped in Russian lore for so many pages that the litany of bald facts regarding Russia selling off its enormous resources of natural gas, oil, rare earth minerals, and animal parts is sickening and disheartening. We have come to care for Siberia, mistreated and remote as it is, and to respect it's plucky population. The exploitation of it's riches seems imprudent, careless, and short-sighted--perhaps even grotesque. We would hope that such an outsized country would have outsized leadership, but this is earth, not heaven. God bless us, every one.

[Seth · Rating 5 out of 5]

Although I usually don’t read non-fiction, I am happily making an exception for Ian Frazier’s books, which are written in a compelling factual style. So far I have read On the Rez and now Travels in Siberia. A staff member at the New Yorker, Frazier has written about his favorite hobby of fishing, the Great Plains, Native Americans, Russia, and many other topics. He manages to make all of them absolutely fascinating. What unifies his writing is a love for particular places.

A year or so ago, I heard the author speak about Travels in Siberia at Politics and Prose bookstore in Washington, DC. I took this one picture.



As you can see, he was wearing a baseball or fishing cap—a trademark. Ian—or Sandy, as his friends call him—hails from Ohio, where people go by nicknames. He told us that earlier in the day he had visited the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, where he tracked down the name of an acquaintance from his hometown on the commemorative wall designed by Maya Lin. He learned for the first time the real name of this individual, who was known to everyone as Buddy.

Frazier’s attachment to Ohio plays a role in Travels in Siberia because he recounts the adventures of the many Ohioans—both famous and not—who explored Siberia. They include the celebrated American diplomat George Frost Kennan and his great-uncle George Kennan, who explored czarist Russia by dog sled on a mission to establish a telegraph link between Europe and the United States via Siberia—a project that was called off. So there were actually two George Kennans involved with Russia and the latter was named for the first. This is just one example of the insights to be gained from Frazier’s heavily researched work. By reading this book, you benefit not only from a detailed account of Frazier’s multiple journeys to Siberia but also from his meticulous research.

Also worth mentioning are the author's fine sketches scattered throughout the book and gracing the cover that illustrate key landscape scenes. So Frazier is not only a fine writer, but also an equally talented researcher and artist!

Traveling in Siberia entails hardship and Frazier’s experiences were no exception. Frazier had a bit of a personality clash with his guide for whom he gains grudging respect on account of his toughness and mechanical ingenuity. In addition, the author struggles with the Russian language, which amounts to a significant handicap. But he tries! And the Russian expressions he shares with us are very helpful. Make no mistake about it. This book constitutes a crowning intellectual achievement.

[Hana · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ian Frazier is in love with Russia. He’s not sure just why, but that’s how love is sometimes. Frazier makes a splendid tour guide to the land he dubs “the greatest horrible country in the world.” Over the course of fifteen years Frazier learned Russian and made five journeys to Siberia, each at different times of the year, one taking him across the entire region over the course of a two-month long, rather harrowing, bug-infested drive.

But Frazier never ‘goes native’ (he doesn’t drink!) and his sometimes neurotic American sensibilities are part of the book’s on-going humor. When he highlights Siberia’s flaws it is in a rather disarming, self-deprecating way that takes much of the sting out of his critique.

On Russian bathrooms: “What I have to say next concerns the Omsk airport men’s room. I regret this. I’ve noticed that in books by Siberian travelers of the past they don’t talk about bathrooms, and that’s probably good. I reluctantly break with this tradition for two reasons. First, I am an American, and Americans pay attention to and care about bathrooms. The habit may show childishness and weak-mindedness, but there it is. Second, if the world really is going to become a global community, then some of our trading partners (I’m talking to you, too, China) need to know how far apart we are on the subject of bathrooms.” I will spare readers of this review the next three paragraphs of description.

Frazier’s last trip was in the winter of 2009-2010 so he missed the 2014 Sochi Winter Olympics. That’s unfortunate, since it is clear that much progress has been made on the Russian Bathroom Front.






Then there are the insects: “I spent the night in a hotel on the Neva...The room had become stuffy so I opened the high narrow windows facing the river. Two or three mosquitoes flew in--the advance pickets of a vast, continental army.”


Frazier is clearly in love not just with Russia, but with its impossible, inventive, and endlessly stoic people. Like all great travel-writers, Frazier has an eye for the telling detail, the little cultural windows that let us enter briefly into another world. Driving across the ice road up the Lena River to Yakutsk with his intrepid guide Sergei, their Soviet-era car, a Uazik, died several miles from land. “The driver seemed overwhelmed, but Sergei had taken a piece out of the engine and was strolling on the ice, hunting around….After more tinkering by Sergei, the driver turned the key and the car started and ran at a rough idle.”

Sergei later explained that a screw had come off and the small rod that held the float regulating the gasoline level of the carburetor had fallen out and disappeared so “all we needed was to find a piece of wire or a nail of the right diameter in order to temporarily replace that rod…I found a bolt of approximately the right size belonging to some other machine under our car’s wheels….Thus I was once again convinced that the Russian car is the most reliable in the world, because it is possible under necessity to replace any part of it with a piece of wire or with a nail.”

Not only was the carburetor fixable, but garbage of just the right size and shape was right there out on the ice in the middle of a frozen river just where it was most needed. What a wonderful country!

Russia is a land of beauty, but it is also a land filled with broken things. Still, as Sergei proved, one man’s trash is another’s treasure--or at least opportunity.


And sometimes, time and nature transform trash into something of startling beauty. This is the steklyannyi plyazh, the glass beach in Vladivostok “where every square foot of beach is made up of small, water-smoothed pieces of glass....Whatever its origins, the beach was gorgeous, like a shattered church mosaic glittering in the light....sand,slowly returning to sand.”


I loved Frazier's book, but it would not be my first choice as a history of Siberia--it's vivid and colorful but a little too scattershot and big chunks of the story get left out. For a more comprehensive and linear history of Siberia, I would recommend East of the Sun: The Epic Conquest and Tragic History of Siberia.

Be sure to check out the many other excellent reviews--I particularly enjoyed Chrissie's review of the audio version and like her, I loved the whale scene and the discussion about bribes.

Content rating G: A few f---s, and the not-too-graphic bathroom discussion.

[Mikey B. · Rating 4 out of 5]

The author is a good writer and there is humour throughout this travelogue. He goes on five trips to Siberia. The first is by airplane to the Lake Baikal region and the second exploring the area within the Arctic Circle. The fourth trip is to Northern Siberia and his last trip is to Novosibirsk. The major portion of the book (his third trip) is his cross country road trip from St. Petersburg to Vladivostok by motor vehicle – a distance of immense proportions. To prepare himself for his Siberia journeys, much to his credit, Mr. Frazier undertakes Russian language instruction.

Mr. Frazier has a good eye for detail and we are given many of his observations - I am happy he noticed a young Russian teenage girl reading Somerset Maugham in English at the Moscow airport, as I admire his short stories. As Mr. Frazier aptly commented, most American teenagers would be fidgeting with their electronic equipment (iPods, cell phones, blackberries…) - although, to add my own anecdote, I did sit next to a young woman in the New York City subway reading “The Brothers Karamazov” – in English of course.

It is with the second trip – the long road journey that I started having difficulties with the style – I found it too negative. Mr. Frazier himself seemed over-burdened with the long journey of being cooped up for so long with two men whose language he only partially understood. As the days wore on in this endless land, the claustrophobia of the vehicle was affecting all – and I felt it overlapping into the writing. Also the author tends to go on tangents – there was much on the history of 19th century Russia (the Decembrists) and too much on Nome, Alaska.

A favourite line from chapter 20: “the panoramas just kept coming at us as if they were being brought to the windshield by a conveyor belt”.

[Bill · Rating 4 out of 5]

boy, siberia is a realllly big place.the entire continental united states and most of europe would fit within its boundaries.the trans-siberian railway from moscow to vladivostock on the coast is 5,771 miles or twice the distance from new jersey to california.that's a long way.it would be really neat to take a trip on that train, but it is probably something that i would like to do but will never get around to actually doing it.

the author actually makes 5 trips to siberia, although he mainly talks about two of them,one in the summer and one in the winter.the one in the summer, he along with two guides drive from one end of siberia to the other in a van which seems to break down every few pages,but they do eventually make it, after more than five weeks on the road.siberia in the summer is hot, dusty and full of huge flocks of mosquitos.the winter in siberia is unbelievably cold.in one place the temperature can sometimes be as low as -96.that's fucking cold!i've lived in saskatoon one winter were it was -40 and that's really freezing.

this book is not just a travel memoir, it's also a history of siberia,from the times of genghis khan,to the gulags to which stalin sent millions to their deaths,right up to the present day when russia has become the leading energy-exporting nation in the world and is also the world's leading producer of diamonds.but not everything is great though.the averge life expectancy of a russian man is only 59 years...that's worse than 165 other countries.

all in all, it's a very well written, entertaining book which probably tells you pretty much all you need to know about siberia, so if you're interested in that kind of thing, you should read it.

at the end of the book, the author is sitting in the moscow airport, waiting for his flight,and a teenage girl next to him is reading, in english, the short stories of somerset maugham.he asks her what grade she is in and she tells him grade 10.he then goes on to say that "in millions of air miles, you would be unlikely to sit next to an american tenth grader reading, in any language, the stories of somerset maugham." a pretty sad commentary on the reading habits of north american youth.

[James Murphy · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is an interesting travelogue describing Frazier's 4 trips into Siberia. He first flew into Siberia's Far East from Alaska. Later he took a road trip from Moscow to the Pacific. Wanting to experience Siberia during the winter a few years later he flew into Vladivostok intending to drive in the opposite direction during winter but farther north in order to see parts of the old gulag system. And around Christmastime in 2009 he flew into Novosibirsk for a short visit because he wasn't sure he'd traveled Siberia enough and he felt he should go "if only just to breathe the air." He went back to answer the tug.

His descriptions of his trips and the people he meets make for absorbing reading. It's made even better by his feeling obligated to explain to the reader many major moments of Siberian history. The two trips into the teeth of the Siberian winter were arduous and as strange as I'd imagined. He was successful in finding some of the old gulag camps and, despite the reluctance of his guides, did spend some time poking around in them, more unsettled by the visits than he'd expected. Though he doesn't complain much, the rigors of travels through what he calls an "incomplete grandiosity", from the intense swarms of mosquitos prevalent everywhere to the uncertainty about some foods to the frequent breakdowns and jury-rigging of the van as they travel through a sparsely-inhabited landscape, were a trial for him but a delight for readers.

[Wanda · Rating 5 out of 5]

It is difficult to do a synopsis of a book that really does not have a plot. It has been called a travelogue. It most assuredly is not that. It has been criticized for "too much history." HELLLOOO! Even had it been a travel book, it should have historical context. Sometimes I wonder about reviewers.
The closest word that comes to my mind when I think of this book is picareque. It seems to fit. It tallks about Frazier's trips to Siberia, which he was determined to see after he fell in love with all things Russian. It is humorous and informative, and yes, it has a lot of very interesting history -- without which who would have cared about someone's journey to a vast wasteland of resilient people that has served as the place for Russians to cast their undesirables?
I liked this book. Frazier does not take himself or his goofy situations in which he finds himself too seriously. He paints a vivid portrait of the environmental damage, the insects, the vast terrain flawlessly and with feeling. He develops his characters fully and with a mixture of frustration and affection.
There were a few bumps in his narrative in which I had to go back and read a few paragraphs over again -- sort of narrative hiccups. But all in all, this is a worthwhile and very interesting book in which you will learn about a place where few people actually WANT to visit. Bravo Frazier.

[Jonathan · Rating 1 out of 5]

A travel book by someone who clearly hates to travel. Tempered slightly with self-effacement, his incessant whining and intermittent panic attacks make for a grating journey. By the middle of the book one is left empathizing heavily with his unfortunate guides. He would have been better off learning how to politely toss back a few shots of vodka than his hours spent studiously attempting to learn the Russian language. His autistic obsession with museums and prison camps might have been a source of comedy, if he had the courage to laugh at himself more than once.

That said, I still actually like Ian Frazier. He comes across as very human, and I share much of his passion for the grand story Russia. I somehow finished the entire book (yes, one of my greater moral failings - I finish many things that I never should have started in the first place), and at the end my greatest disdain is reserved for the editor - or for the author for not submitting to one. There was enough material here for a decent book - the publisher just needed to slap Ian in the face a few times to get his creative juices flowing because clearly what might have happened on his travels in siberia would be far more interesting than the dull, unobscured truth.

[Deb (Readerbuzz) Nance · Rating 4 out of 5]

I did not see much sun during the past few weeks.
I've been in Siberia.

I've been reading Travels in Siberia by Ian Frazier.

I discovered there is more to Siberia
than the terrible cold and the terrible prisons:

1. It can be quite warm and horribly mosquito-ey in August.

2. People throw trash everywhere. Even in camping areas.

3. There is a lot of drinking. Drinking and throwing up.
Drinking and passing out. Even children.

4. Cars break down a lot in Siberia. Like every day.

5. It's pretty common to get cholera and food poisoning.

Despite all these terrible things,
Ian Frazier loves Siberia.
And, because he was my guide
on my first visit to Siberia,
I love it, too.

[Jules · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was the first travel book I have ever read. Until now, I kind of avoided them, as I always feared that they would somehow spoil my own travels.
I think Ian Frazier has changed my mind regarding this genre. I really enjoyed the book, the in depth background information of Russian history and his descriptions of landscape, people and Russian ways of doing things. But most of all Travels in Siberia made my wish of traveling the Transsiberian railroad move up on my 'list of things to see and do on this planet' quite a bit.

[John · Rating 3 out of 5]

More valleys than peaks, unsurprisingly

This covers over twenty years of the titular travels, half a dozen to Russia and another batch of the same to its eastern fastness. But I can't say I often got a real sense of the terrain, the scenery, the vastness. However, Frazier in his idiosyncratic manner manages to mark any predecessor from his home state of Ohio who ever wound up there. I expected, in fact, that given his affection for the Midwest (but I rejected his audio performance of this due to the grating sound of his accent and his monotonous tone), he'd have expanded his few comparisons to the horizonless heartland, since after all, he preceded this travelogue with an exploration of the Great Plains, back in the early Eighties.

If flat suits the subject, it's also the form alongside content. If this totalled half its length, it'd have bolstered the verve. Starting at the Alaskan frontier to enter Siberia is clever, but the expedition doesn't wind up that memorable. Ending his trip in the opposite direction on his epic drive across the continent, coincidentally on September 11, 2001, makes for an eerie scenario. Yet the pace then turns anticlimactic, as he has two more major excursions to go, which drag out the telling and lose energy.

Frazier does convey the overlooked sensations glossed over or left unsaid by many. The fetid, woeful bathrooms, the jarring transport, the mosquito plagues, the trash, boorish inhabitants, the decaying edifices. And much discomfort, the boredom, and the varying if often dubious cuisine he and his drivers and hosts must consume. He is at his best not so much in conjuring up rounded characters or engrossing conversations, as he's practicing Russian as he goes along, but in the connections he makes to his reading, both in English and Russian, of the chronicles and witnesses from the past.

This, although not all were technically Siberian or cited herein, this did remind me to 1) revisit Mikhail Bakunin, as he led such a bizarre existence even by 19c anarchist standards. 2) Read the sequel Stories of the Criminal World to Shalamov's Kolyma Tales (which I reviewed). 3) Wonder why Edmund Wilson's To the Finland Station wasn't promoted (maybe given Wilson's fandom for Lenin, before all the facts were known). 4) Find out in passing if elsewhere both Russian Thinkers by Isaiah Berlin and its influence on Tom Stoppard's trilogy The Coast of Utopia. 5) Re-read House of the Dead.

Particularly his affection for the 1825 Decembrists (he missed a shout out to the Northwest millennial indie band who took their name) comes across. No wonder he'd tell those whom he met abroad he was working on a book about them, to simplify matters. And, his visit. to the desolate remains of a labor camp provide the most evocative passages. He reminds us about both the unsettling affection by the post-Soviet generations of their admiration for Stalin, and the Western "free pass" that Uncle Joe continues to get contrasted with Hitler. Frazier unforgettably sums up why millions went to gulags... Expendables, who were bartered, their lives in cynical exchange, converted into gold or timber export.

[Lobstergirl · Rating 4 out of 5]

A largely entertaining and delightful read. I'd read the excerpts of it in The New Yorker, and I've slowly been developing a fascination with Siberia myself (Frazier's is an obsession), so I knew I'd have to read this eventually. Siberia reveals itself to be a mysterious place, where they speak a difficult and confusing foreign language called Russian, and enormous heaps of trash lie everywhere (though the trash has a much smaller paper component than in America, and also here in America we don't have the same trash heaps usually, because we've created these wonderful things called landfills), and stunningly beautiful women parade the streets, highways, byways, city squares of many Siberian cities and towns. The beauty of the Siberian women was perhaps the most mysterious aspect of Siberia in Frazier's telling, because, how to explain it? None of the explanations he semi-gives seem terribly rational, and besides he's a man, so I don't completely trust his evaluation of womanly beauty to begin with.

The two other most entertaining aspects of Frazier's travels are the mosquitoes - at times, so dense that Frazier and his guides have to go about their business in beekeeping headgear - and the hilarious unreliability of their van, which breaks down, refuses to start, or loses major parts every few days or so. One wonders, isn't there a window somewhere between August and winter, when the mosquito population comes close to dying off, but it's not yet -40º?

The downside of Frazier's book is that there's actually way too much history. I came for the travel, not for the history (I'll get my history from other books), which is delivered in an annoyingly cutesy fashion, such as: "Many people who you might not think of as ever having been in Russia, were." (I smell a lingering John McPhee in that sentence, another very famous New Yorker writer whom Frazier thanks in his acknowledgements.) "Whistler's mother, of the well-known painting, got up from her straight-back chair long enough to go to Russia with Whistler's father..." The long section on the Decembrists bored me, but I understand even more having finished the book why Frazier had to include it. His Russian guides were too embarrassed to tell the locals that Frazier was writing a book about Siberia, so they told people it was going to be about the Decembrists, the 19th century Russian failed revolutionary heroes and a noble and satisfactory book topic.

There's an excellent map at the beginning of the book, showing primary cities, major rivers, and the Trans-Siberian Railway and Baikal-Amur Mainline. What the map lacks (why?) are the routes of Frazier's two primary trips. It's not that difficult to pick out Frazier's routes on your own, but a couple colored or dotted lines would have been helpful.

[Nick · Rating 4 out of 5]

Frazier is a Russophile, admitting a love and fascination for all things Russian, in particular, Siberia. "Travels in Siberia" covers five trips to Siberia from the 1990's to around 2010. The main section of his travels is a road trip from St Petersburg to Vladivostok with two Russian companions in a car that continually breaks down. They cover a huge distance, see a lot of sights and people, get on each other's nerves and take a look at conditions in eastern Russia and Siberia. I'm not quite sure, though, if the author enjoyed himself much at times! Travel can be hard work.

There is a lot of history along the way ... the Decembrists, tsars, Mongol invasions, railway and road building, revolution, writers, exiles, communism and gulags, mammoths, the list goes on. There is also a very decent bibliography, which lists some further reading. (Cannot work out why he has not included Applebaum's work on the gulags.)

It can be a frustrating travel read at times and I wondered about some of his inclusions. There are some awkward moments that would have been better left out. His long list of what he did not see; his account of calling on an acquaintance in Mongolia unannounced; his forgetting people's names ... I think these should have been edited out.

In all, it was a good look at Russia and Siberia, a place I will probably never get to. Probably not quite four stars, but maybe 3.5.

[Campbell · Rating 3 out of 5]

Not much to say about this, really. The subject matter was interesting but the author comes across as, not to put too fine a point on it, a complete pain in the arse.

[Brian Griffith · Rating 4 out of 5]

Frazier rambles through Siberia several times, driven by a basically inexplicable craving for more. He catalogs the journey with enjoyable, matter-of-fact informality, regarding almost no detail as too trivial to mention. Its a frank, on-the-fly sort of account, studded with rather passionate detours into historic tales of trappers, raiders, exiled dissidents, prison camp slaves or semi-nomad natives. The travel conditions are harder and more intimate than most tourists would tolerate, and the scenery oscillates between junkyard ugly and utterly spectacular. Whether the towns are semi-abandoned or the cities are humming with rising vitality, Frazier finds a level of tragedy, greatness, and regional pride that he can't seem to get enough of.

[Calzean · Rating 2 out of 5]

I couldn't get into this one. Long passages of things not related to Siberia (I did learn not to go to Nome), there was a lot about the author (in his use of "I" he must have worn out this letter on his keyboard), and a little bit condescending at times, were some of my hates. Oh, and his humour was pretty dull.

[Mary · Rating 5 out of 5]

My second Ian Frazier book. I also read Great Plains. Both are excellent.

Travels in Siberia is about Frazier’s love for Russia and all things Russian. In this time of Putin’s unwarranted attack on the Ukraine, is it an interesting time to be reading this book.

Frazier writes about three of his many trips to Russia focusing on the area of Siberia. The first is a journey by car he took with two guides across the breadth of Siberia during the summer months. He writes about the horrific mosquitos and other bugs and describes lots of garbage along the road ways. Not really selling points for a trip to Siberia. On the other hand, he provides lots of historical and cultural information about the country. He also describes the beauty of the unbroken taiga.

The second part of the book relates his journey in winter to the coldest parts of Siberia which dominate my impression of the area before I read the first part of this book. Frazier travels with one of the guides from his first trip. He describes the cold weather gear he bought for the trip. He uses this when goes for walks around town. He describes driving over frozen lakes and inclines with no room for error and steep drops. He also describes his visit to a crumbling abandoned prison from Soviet days.

The third part of the book he focuses on the economic value that Siberia has come to hold for Russia. The value of oil and gas and certain minerals found in Siberia. Again Frazier provides a wealth of cultural, historical, and social information that make his books so enjoyable to read.

[Erik Graff · Rating 4 out of 5]

Like the best biographies, a good travel book covers a wide range of topics, environmental, cultural, historical etc. This is a great travel book about the author's many visits to the Russian Federation and its Siberian territories in particular. Although written with warmth, humor and affection, I found it to only decrease any interest I might have in visiting Russia. The author's descriptions of decay, filth, economic inequity, and environmental irresponsibility were offputting--and this was all written before the Russian invasion of Ukraine.

[Camelia Rose · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ian Frazier fell in love with Russia ever since he first traveled to Moscow after the collapse of Soviet Union. Travels in Siberia is a collection of travelogs of his visits to Russia (especially Siberia) from early 1990s to 2009. He flies to Russian border towns from Alaska, in summer of 2001 drives from St. Petersburg to Vladivostok, across Western Russia and Siberia, visits the major cities along the old Russia exile route (Perm, Yekaterinburg, Novosibirsk, Irkutsk, Ulan-Ude, to name a few), and has a winter trip in Siberia a few years later.

The author blends travel impressions, conversations with locals and travel companions, sceneries and anecdotes, the marvels and quirks of country, well with Russian history and literature. You get a good picture of Russia from Mongol invasion to modern day Russia under Putin. I shouldn't have been surprised to know how brutal the terror of Genghis Khan and his empire imposed on Russia. The author has an interesting pet theory that Russia's "incomplete grandiosity" has its root in a traumatized childhood.

The popularity of Russian Decemberists only grows--before, during and after Soviet Union. The 19th century idealists had a grander dream. They failed, but nevertheless dignified, and to this day remain the best embodiment of Russia nobility and dignity their people love to remember.

The discussion of Stalin's crimes is shelved before completed. Gulag is forgotten. It is the oil money that keeps the Russian Far East afloat, at the same time accelerates the melting of methane under the permafrost.

I enjoy reading the author's description of the Russian smell: A lot of diesel fuels, cucumber peels and old tea bags, sour milk and a sweetness--currant jams or mulberries crushed into waffle threads of heavy boots, fresh wet mud and a lot of wets in it.

[Mag · Rating 5 out of 5]

It is a very interesting and well written account of Frazier’s ultimate trip across Siberia, few people, and I am sure even few Russians have ever undertaken. Throughout this journey, or many trips he took in the end, Frazier shows true engagement with the country and its history and a real affection for its people. It’s a fascinating account, even though I think that he might have missed something very Russian there. Maybe, the fact that he didn’t drink and went to sleep early, missing night parties at the villages he and his guides stopped by, prevented him from experiencing this very Russianness, but what he came up with is nevertheless very engaging.

I have a feeling that he tried to model his account on the Lewis and Clark journals, with every little thing accounted for, and even though I felt a bit surprised by this type of an account at the beginning, I really came to like it.
Frazier drew sketches of the places he visited and some of them are in the book- they are quite good actually, and I enjoyed them. Since I both listened to and read the book, I must say that he was good reading his stuff too. Overall, it was a very honest and enjoyable read.
4.5/5

[Sanjay Varma · Rating 3 out of 5]

Wonderful book. I have wanted to read it ever since a friend shared Ian Frazier's long form New Yorker essay about his drive across Siberia with two hired Russian guides. The author's enthusiasm shines, illuminating his prose descriptions of Siberia and its people. He also excels at weaving in historical points of view, and surveys of Siberian literature.

The weaknesses in this book are its length, and the author's unfortunate habit of describing transition moments (planning the trip, landing in the airport, etc.) with the same expanded sense of time that he uses to describe the actual travels in Russia and Siberia. He is also a bit uptight and so this book lacks the next level unpredictability that might result from someone more intrepid. For example, each night when they pitched tents in Siberia, the author would go to sleep early. His Russian drivers would head into the nearest village or town and drink with the locals. The author never once joined them!

[Preetam Chatterjee · Rating 4 out of 5]

We’ve all heard of Siberia. Siberia is celebrated: cosmic breadths of land, crunchy freezing, punishment camps, but also apparently infinite natural riches and mineral resources. For some of the indigenous “Peoples of the North” who live there, reindeer herding, together with hunting and fishing, is still a core element of everyday life.

Ian Frazier, a gifted writer and humorist who was once on the staff of the Harvard Lampoon, proves he is worthy of the challenge by producing a nonfiction tour de force.

Frazier begins the book with these words: ‘Officially, there is no such place as Siberia. No political or territorial entity has Siberia as its name. In atlases, the word “Siberia” hovers across the northern third of Asia unconnected to any place in particular, as if designating a zone or a condition; it seems to show through like a watermark on the page. During Soviet times, revised maps erased the name entirely, in order to discourage Siberian regionalism. Despite this invisibility, one can assume that Siberia’s traditional status as a threat did not improve.’

In America’s mind, Siberia is a vast, glacial, and antagonistic wilderness that one is exiled to for punishment. So naturally, New Yorker journalist and author Ian Frazier took more than a few road trips there over a 16-year period to probe its bleak history and produce a fabulous travelogue.

Siberia occupies three-quarters of Russian territory but just a slice of its population.

In the last two decades, the image of Siberia in the view of the world has changed considerably. Whereas its past reputation was based on its history as a vast prison for all kinds of politically and socially undesirable persons, it has now become famous for its enormous natural resources.

Covering half of the territory of what is today the Russian Federation, Siberia provides more than 80 percent of Russia’s gas, 70 percent of its oil, 60 percent of its coal, and almost all of its diamonds, as well as other valuable resources. Most of Russia’s hard currency income is obtained from the export of these resources. Siberia, therefore, is of crucial strategic importance for Russia as well as for other countries
that depend on its resources.

This book is both fun and soberly informative, as suggested by nearly 40 pages of endnotes and bibliography.

[Filip · Rating 2 out of 5]

The title is a bit of a misnomer. There isn't that much Siberia to begin with (the writer doesn't get to Siberia proper before page 200), nor is there much travelling going on: speeding non-stop across the Eurasian land mass in a van doesn't really provide for much of a a travelogue. "Clueless Petulant Older White Male" would do this book more justice. Frazier writes well (when he takes the effort - see below), but for a travel writer he has a severe lack of empathy (the patronising descriptions of his Russian companions, who for him are little more than modern-day Dersu Uzalas, are cringe-worthy, and the way he insidiously implies that some laughing and dancing with Siberian belles by his companions led to much more, won't have made for a warm welcome when these Russian men returned home in the Russian West. What happens in Siberia, clearly doesn't stay in Siberia, as far as Frazier is concerned). This is especially ironic since the author has a bit of a roving eye, and marks virtually every Siberian city for the beauty of its womenfolk. In spite of his own frequent assertions to the contrary, his Russian is clearly flimsy at best. He doesn't seem to realise that female family names are different from male names (he keeps going on about Princess Trubetskoy), and other painfully tentative conversations indicate that he has a very weak grasp of the language. But since he spends most of his travelling time holed up in the back of the van, sulking, this might only be a minor detail.
Despite allegedly having been 15 years in the making, some parts of the book are still rather sketchy: entire pages are little more than copies from his diary entries, as the staccato shorthand and irrelevant details indicate. Other parts are verbatim translations of conversations which he must have taped - translations that makes them sound like mad scientists from the '50s. These and other elements make the book feel a bit ramshackle.
Frazier complains (a lot) about his Russian companions growing distant for no discernible reason. When you read this book, you will understand why. What with his sulking and derogatory, clichéd view of Russia and its inhabitants, it is a small wonder they didn't push him under the ice.

[Suzy · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a multi-faceted look at Russia and especially the Siberia of the title told by a man who became obsessed with Russia early on in his life. His father was tracking Sputnik when Frazier was a boy in the 1950's!

I've spent the last weeks both travelling along with Frazier on his 3 trips to Siberia and learning about many aspects of Russia and Russian history. There are so many things to connect with in his writings. History, Czars, Monguls, the Decembrists, geography, geology, climate change, the myth of Siberia, Siberia as a state of mind, Siberia as a metaphor . . . I could go on. I also enjoyed his first trip across Siberia in the summer, west to east, with his guides Sergei and Volodya in a broken down vehicle that Sergei seemed to always be able to repair when needed. You can imagine that over 6 weeks there were many relationship dynamics and experiences, and Frazier told these with vividness and wit.

That Frazier traveled to Russia several times over 16 years, 1993-2009, allowed him to observe and write about the dramatic changes that took place there over those years. His next-to-the-last chapter on climate change is particularly affecting. In the last few pages he waxes philosophic about "the incomplete grandiosity of Russia" pulling together much of what he's told us. The last sentence of the book itself makes it totally worth reading the other 470 pages.

I first met Frazier in reading Great Plains and loved his writing style and humor so I had high expectations for this book and was not disappointed. I listened to the audiobook, which was read by Frazier himself. He was not the very best narrator technically (he often "finished" sentences before he was actually done, having to add the rest as an afterthought) but I can't imagine experiencing his trip with any other reader. Makes me want to check out an audio copy of Great Plains.